


Telling the Family

by holdstheace



Category: North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell | UK TV
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8601379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdstheace/pseuds/holdstheace
Summary: In the week between their eventful meeting at the train station and subsequent marriage, Margaret and John plan a wedding, re-start a business, and have many conversations with friends and family.





	

  ** _Prologue_**

 

Margaret was sure she could have endured a much longer train ride in such a state, leaning on Mr. Thornton's side, head resting on his shoulder, feeling the light puff of his breathing near her forehead.  There had been long periods of silence, as each sat with their own whirling thoughts, and then there had been interludes of conversation, words of gratitude and tenderness, creating a warmth matched only by Mr. Thornton's gentle kisses. 

 

They were distracting, those kisses, and now, as the train neared Milton-Northern, Margaret knew that she could not let herself be distracted.  The train ride would end, and then real life would begin again. Despite what Mr. Thornton had asked, it would not be so simple as just going home with him. 

"Mr. Thornton," she began, sitting up straight and clasping the hand that lay nearest her lap.  "We must decide what we are going to do." 

Margaret saw a glimmer of mischief streak across his face, but it passed and he merely smiled and said, "Of course, Miss Hale. I don't suppose it would be proper for a lady to get off a train and go straight to a man's house when he hasn't even so much as proposed to her." 

Margaret was preparing to defend one of them - him, or her, she wasn't quite sure - when Mr. Thornton smiled again.  "I'm teasing," he said, squeezing her hand.  

Margaret felt a rueful smile on her own face. "I know.  But I do feel like things should be done properly, at least for your mother's sake and my aunt and cousins.  Goodness knows, I've caused enough scandal so far, the least I can do is try to be respectable."  She sighed.  "I do want it to be simple though - I once told someone that my idea of a good wedding was to wake up on a fine day, get dressed, and walk to the church, no more." 

Mr. Thornton looked at her suspiciously. "Were you thinking of anyone in particular at that time?"

Margaret tried to hide her chuckle. "Far from it - I think I was mostly missing the beautiful flowers at Helstone."

There was a slight pause, then: "Do you want to get married in Helstone?"

Looking at Mr. Thornton, Margaret could see that he was serious - that if she wanted to get married there, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.  

She lowered her eyes and shook her head. "No. I've found it doesn't matter where I am, so long as... I know that you will be there." 

Apparently Mr. Thornton thought this answer deserving of another kiss, one that Margaret was loathe to interrupt, though the meters of track kept rolling away beneath them, bringing them closer and closer to their destination.  

Finally, she reluctantly pulled away and said, "All this doesn't yet decide what we're to do." 

Mr. Thornton turned sideways on the seat and took both of Margaret's hands. 

"I too want a simple wedding. God knows I had enough of fuss and feathers with Fanny's.  Let us announce our intentions and wait a week or so for Mother and Fanny to get used to the idea, and your set to travel up from London, if they wish. Then we can walk to the church, as you say, get married, and have a small dinner party in the afternoon.  You can even invite that Higgins fellow, if you like." 

Now it was Margaret's turn to shower her future husband with kisses, so pleased was she with the way he had divined what would make both of them happy with the least amount of fuss.  

This time, Mr. Thornton broke away and looked at her seriously. 

"Where do you expect to stay in Milton?" 

"I'm sure I can find a hotel." 

Mr. Thornton shook his head.  "That's no place to stay, even for a week. You know..."

"Yes?  What is it?" 

"How would you feel about staying with my mother?" 

Margaret stared. "Your mother? You know how she dislikes me." 

"Hear me out," Mr. Thornton said, waving his hand just like when he explained some matter of business to another mill owner. "Even if this wedding is simple, you cannot do it all on your own. Now my mother may be strong-willed, but she never hesitates to do her duty, and she will help you, whether she likes you or not." 

This, Margaret acknowledged, was probably true. 

"Then you will have a more comfortable place to stay, and someone to keep you company." 

Margaret thought for a moment. "But where will you stay?" 

"There is an apartment over the mill, near the offices." 

Margaret took a deep breath at the thought of being at the mercy of Hannah Thornton for a week.  However, she reasoned, she would always be out during the day time, and she could make every effort at civility while in the house. 

"I will do it, " she said. "But I will need to stay in a hotel tonight, so she has at least one day to prepare." 

"That seems reasonable,” Mr. Thornton replied. “And my mother will agree. She will see the sense in it." 

 

And so it was agreed, just in time for the train's arrival in Milton.  Margaret stepped off the train, strangely excited and calm at the same time.  She was grateful for the support of Mr. Thornton's arm beneath her own and that he carried her bag. In no time at all she found herself in front of a cab, with her bag inside, and about to be handed up herself. 

What a treacherous thing a heart was! A bolt of fear and longing rushed through her - the desire not to be separated from Mr. Thornton, the fear that this had all been a dream and tomorrow she would wake up alone in foggy London.  

He must have seen something dart across her face, because for a quick moment his arms were tight around her, never mind the crowds, and he was muttering incoherent promises against her hair.  

It was only a moment however, and Margaret let herself be handed into the cab, forced to content herself that the longing in Mr. Thornton's eyes matched her own as she drove away, and that this nightlong separation would make their reunion tomorrow that much sweeter.  

 

**_Friday: Mother and Son_ **

 

It's not that John Thornton was afraid of his mother. If anything, he was afraid on her behalf, knowing he might overwhelm her with the feelings of the last few hours.  So before heading home, he wandered the streets of Milton to clear his head.  

His head did need clearing. His mental state swung wildly between perfect peace, clarity, a happiness almost too great to comprehend, and frenetic thinking, revisiting every word spoken in the past and all the possibilities for the future.  Like an overexcited child wearing itself out, eventually the oscillations of his mind lessened, and he was left walking around Milton half-dazed and half-consciously-pleased. 

 His meandering walk steps him past the gates of Marlborough Mill. Before it had given him a slight pang to see the empty yard, the silent factory. But now, all he felt was a stream of anticipation: soon--soon, it would be alive again, filled with the hum of men and machines. Soon he would slip back into the well-worn - and will-fitting, he hoped - role of the master.  Soon he would have another chance to strive and fight, but this time he would have Margaret by his side to face each trouble as it came. 

 It was in this happy frame of mind, that he finally wended his way back to the house where he and his mother were staying. 

 

He walked into the sitting room, where his mother sat, mending a shirt. 

"How was the trip?" she asked, eyeing his disheveled clothing with concern. 

"It was good," he replied, not able to meet her eyes, reaching out to grip the back of a dining chair that was nearby. 

If Mrs. Thornton had been only moderately worried before, she was _very_ concerned now. 

"John? What is it? What's distracting you? You can tell me, let me help you bear it." 

John rubbed the back of his head, then turned to face his mother and plunged into his news. 

"Mother, I met Miss Hale on the train, and we...we plan to be married." 

Mrs. Thornton's first reaction was shock.  She stared at her son, then off into space. 

"Married...?  Can I ask when you settled this?" 

John realized, belatedly, that he hadn't actually asked Margaret to marry him, and hoped that he wasn't going out a limb.

"We met on the train back to Milton.  She was going south as I was going north." 

Mrs. Thornton nodded absently and kept staring at nothing.  "I saw Miss Hale today, at the mill.  Asked if she come to gloat over us, but she didn't." Looking up at her son: "I guess she came to see you." 

A strange joy swept through John's heart at the realization that this was true - that besides the business proposition, Margaret had surely also wanted to see him. 

"Mother, I know it is a surprise. I'm sure that neither of us had expectations of the other." 

"I'm not surprised," his mother said. "A little surprised about her, but not about you. Don't you think I've noticed all your sighin' and pinin' this winter?  I known it wasn't all about the mill."  

John felt abashed that he'd been so transparent to his mother. But then he brightened up. "I cannot hide it, Mother. I'm just grateful I no longer have to try." 

Mrs. Thornton sighed deeply. "And I'm grateful to her, much as I've found her difficult in the past.  John - I would see you happy. And if this is what you've chosen, I must go along with it." 

John dropped a thankful kiss on his mother's forehead. "Mother, I know you will come to respect her. You are too similar to dislike each other long." 

"Get away with you," Mrs. Thornton said, but with no bite in the words. "I shall try to like her for your sake, that is all." 

"I am pleased to hear it." Then, taking a deep breath, "Especially since I would like her to come and stay with you." 

"Come and stay with me?  Whatever for?"

"She has no family in Milton, and she should have a place to stay until the wedding." 

Mrs. Thornton stared at her son. "Do you mean to say, Miss Hale is actually in Milton right now? Alone?"

"When we met, I invited her to return with me." 

Mrs. Thornton was staring aghast at John. "But her reputation! She'll be talked about all over town!" 

John couldn't help it; a smile would creep up over his serious expression. That Margaret should defy convention, return home with him, all because she loved him...

"John, this is serious! When I told her mother that I would advise her like my own daughter, I'm sure that would include discouraging her from running away, unchaperoned, even if the man in question is my own son!" 

"Mother, I know it may seem reckless..." 

"Pah! I would have expected more from both of you." 

"But it matters not what others think, if we know our own minds. And why should we be unhappy, with her in London, and I in Milton, if we might both be happy here?" He paused, then went on, "Mother, I've never been so happy in all my life. It's almost painful, to know that Margaret loves me and that we will be together. I couldn't bear to ask her to go away, even for propriety." 

Mrs. Thornton sighed, clearly resigning herself to the love struck foolishness of her son and prospective daughter-in law.  "When are you planning on getting married then, if may I ask?"

"Saturday next." 

Her eyes widened. "Next Saturday? In one week?" She lowered her eyes, then raised them again to study her son's face.  After a moment, she could feel herself being won over by the half-hopeful, half entreating expression on his face, and, even more, the light behind his eyes that had been missing for the last half-year. 

"Well, this is more news than I was expecting to receive this afternoon, but I’m sure I'll get used to it in time. For now, Miss Hale can come and stay here and I'll do what I can for her." 

"Thank you Mother," John replied, dropping another kiss onto her forehead. "I knew you'd understand."

 

She didn't understand - how could she? This deep, irrational passion was taking her son away to a land where she could neither follow, nor help him as before.  From this point forward, he would be on his own, with Margaret as his new partner in life. And that was bitter pain.  

But she was also his mother. This thing - this tremendous feeling - demanded her begrudging respect, if only for its power to supplant her role in John's life. It must be mighty, it must be real, and she had to trust that if she truly loved her son, she would let him go, to navigate it on his own.

 

**_Saturday: Mother and Daughter-in-law_ **

 

Hannah Thornton's evening sewing had been lying neglected in her lap for a long while by the time she heard steps on her front stairs. Her son hurriedly greeted her, then kissed her goodnight, leaving Margaret Hale standing in the entry way, looking dazed. 

 

"Good evening, Miss Hale." 

"Good evening, Mrs. Thornton," Margaret said. She moved to take off her wrap and Mrs. Thornton saw the flash of a gem on her hand. 

So it was official. This was happening. 

"I'm surprised you didn't take a cab, it's so late," Mrs. Thornton said, not sure why she was scolding as Margaret hung up the wrap. 

"I like to walk," Margaret said, then added, "And, even with what feels like riches around us, it seems right to continue in economy." 

Mrs. Thornton breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. She didn't think John would be so foolish as to join himself to a spendthrift girl, but his seemingly irrational attachment to Miss Hale had caused her some anxiety on this point. 

They walked into the sitting room and sat down, both a bit more stiffly than they might have in other circumstances.  

"What work did you accomplish today?" Mrs. Thornton asked. 

"So many things," Margaret replied. "There were...lease papers and machinery inspections and an inventory of all the equipment. I am so glad to be a part of it, that I might understand how everything works." 

"You're a rare kind," Mrs. Thornton acknowledged. "I've never known a woman, aside myself, who takes such an interest in her man's work." 

 

A brief pause, and then Mrs. Thornton decided she must broach the painful subject of the wedding before it got any later. 

"I understand that you wish to be married soon." 

Margaret blushed slightly at this. "It seems foolish to wait. I would be with Mr. Thornton whether he is rich or poor, so I do not need to wait for some sort of worldly success for us to start our life together." 

"Well, I know you both well enough to know that there's no stopping you once you've set your minds on something." 

Margaret laughed. "'Tis true.  I believe it is one of the things I admire about Mr. Thornton. He takes action once he knows his mind." 

"If you like that quality, you shall like him indeed," Mrs. Thornton said.  "But I would have thought that you once found such initiative unappealing." 

"Perhaps that is because I did not understand his mind, or his character," Margaret said earnestly.  "I now know I was wrong in judging him so hastily. And I'm sure there will be many times in the future that we disagree.  But I know him now to be the finest man of my acquaintance - hard-working, honorable, and sincere.  I am only grateful that he considers me worthy to be his wife."  Then, very quietly, "I would not blame you if you still feel differently." 

Mrs. Thornton had planned to spend at least a few weeks stewing in resentment over her son's marriage, knowing that she would have to give in eventually.  But in the face of Margaret's humble admission, she felt her resistance melting like snow in the spring thaw.  

"I know we have had our differences, Miss Hale. But if you see enough in my son to marry him now, in his low circumstances, after all you've previously said, I know your character is true. And I can appreciate that in you."  She paused.  "I shall perhaps even come to like you," with a little half smile.  

Margaret's answering smile was genuine, and her words honest, when she replied, "I'd be glad of that.  I know Mr. Thornton would too." 

"If you are going to be married, you shall have to get used to calling him John," Mrs. Thornton said, amused at the lingering formality. 

"It is still...new to me."

"Yes well.  You should probably be off to bed if we are to be up for church tomorrow morning."  

Margaret bowed her head. "Indeed. Good night Mrs. Thornton." 

"Good night Miss Hale." 

 

Mrs. Thornton remained downstairs for a good half hour after Margaret had removed to her temporary bedroom. Her fingers idled over the cotton fabric she embroidered.  Much as she wished to resent Margaret, she could see now what advantages she possessed.  So like her John - proud of her character, confident and decided, honest and straightforward to a fault.  And she clearly harbored feelings for him as deep as his own for her. How well suited they would be, after all. 

 How many mothers got to see their sons, the apple of their eye, so blessed? A tear slipped out of Mrs. Thornton's eye at so great a happiness, a joy that could even overcome the grief of being displaced in her son's affections. 

 

**_Sunday - Brother and Sister (I)_ **

 

Fanny had heard the gossip on Saturday, but only found her mother at home, who forcefully decreed that she wait for her brother to call on Sunday to explain.  

(On Sunday afternoon, Mrs. Thornton declined to go, and John firmly told Margaret that she was _not_ to go bear the brunt of Fanny's reaction until he had mitigated it somewhat.)

Which meant that by the time John arrived to tea, Fanny had a days worth of indignation to share.  She swept into the sitting room where he was waiting and began: "John! What can you mean by this? Is it true that you are to marry Miss Hale?" 

John sat down and leaned back in the chair. "Yes Fanny. I proposed and she accepted." 

"But...when? how?" Fanny asked, rocking impatiently back and forth. "I thought she was in London. What brought her to Milton?"

"She came to Milton on business. She's a wealthy woman now, and wanted to make an investment in Marlborough Mills." 

"Marlborough Mills? But I thought...Tell me everything in order!" 

Not for the first time, John was grateful that he depended on Fanny for nothing in his life and could afford to sit calmly in her sitting room, eyeing her with amusement, as he talked with her. 

"We met while she was returning to London, returning from her business here in Milton, looking over the mill.  She owns the land now, you know. She is loaning me money to re-open Marlborough Mill, and we are engaged." 

For once in her life, Fanny was speechless.  John waited for her to recover her voice, which came back with a vengeance: 

"I'm sure you could have knocked me over with a feather. Why, you haven't even seen her these past six months, I can't imagine why she would agree to marry you now, when's the mill's closed, if she wouldn't before when you were rich! And what would motivate her to loan you money? I don't trust her John. Are you sure she’s not just trying to take advantage of you, making you marry her for money, only to make a mockery of you later?”

John was torn between amusement at this total mis-reading of Margaret's character, and anger that Fanny could even think such things.  

"Fanny, you once asked if the Hales could be different than most of the people we know and you've just shown why that is true. Margaret could never, would never, do such a thing that you've described.  She does things because they are right; she would have loaned me the money anyway. And, hard as it may be to believe," he concluded, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice, "she agreed to marry me because she loves me." 

His sharp tone finally subdued Fanny, who still looked sulky about the whole business. 

"Well John, I suppose I must congratulate you, even if I do not understand your choice.  What does mother think?" 

"Your congratulations are received, Fanny, no matter how they are given. Mother has accepted our wishes, and I am sure that she will come to understand Margaret and love her as I do." 

Fanny frowned at this, but kept silence.  Then, "Well, I will do what I can to help Miss Hale plan for the wedding. I know what is in best taste, and can advise her on the best way to do things." 

"That will be quite enough, Fanny. Margaret and I both know our own minds and sha'n't need your interference. Besides," he added mischievously, "I don't think we have time for your plans. We hope to be married this coming Saturday." 

This set Fanny off again. "This Saturday? Are you seeking to cause a scandal? People will talk!"

"Let them talk. You know both Margaret and I do not care what other people think." 

"I shan't be able to receive callers for a week, I'll be too ashamed." 

John laughed outright. "That's not true Fanny, you'll have more callers than ever, all curious about the news, and you can say whatever you like to them about it. My actions need not reflect on you." 

Fanny looked slightly mollified at this.  

John continued: "So now, I would like to officially invite you to the wedding. Fanny, you and mother are my only family; will you come?" 

Fanny huffed, but said, "Of course I'll come. I can't say I'll be happy to see Miss Hale stand up a front of church with you, but I'll be there." 

"We don't ask for your approval, just that you attend. Thank you Fanny."  

That was about the extent of the visit and after some banal conversation about the state of the servant's quarters and whether mutton was a suitable food for dinner, John rose to leave. 

"Good day Fanny. You will get an invitation as soon as we have them. If Margaret has any questions about re-furnishing the house with Indian wallpaper, I will make sure she comes to you." 

And with this parting shot, he breezed through the door, off to spend the rest of his Sunday in the much more pleasant company of his mother and fiancée.  

 

**_Monday - Friend of the Family_ **

 

"Me was wonderin' when you'd come 'round," Nicholas said, when Margaret finally knocked on the door of the Princeton Street house. 

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Margaret said, feeling herself blush. "How did you know I was back from London?" 

"Ah, the whole town's alight with it," Nicholas said, eyes twinkling. "Word is that someone's put up the money to reopen Marlborough Mills.  Makes me glad I wrote down all those men who'd be interested in coming back to work for the master." 

"John...I mean, Mr. Thornton, told me about that yesterday, and I was so pleased, Nicholas.  I knew you both would get on if given a chance - you are so alike in some ways." 

"On a first-name basis now, are you? Now that he's your business partner?" 

"Father, don't tease her so," Mary cut in, for once interrupting her outspoken parent. "Miss Hale, it's not just business, is it?  Are you truly to be married to Mr. Thornton?" 

Margaret lifted her chin, feeling a smile creep across her face, no matter how she tried to hide it. "I am. We're planning on within the week." 

Nicholas whistled.  "So soon!  Ah, and I can tell by your face that you only regret it's not sooner." 

Margaret smiled even more broadly on seeing the congratulatory smiles of her friends. "If you had told me even three months ago that all this would come to pass, that all the sorrows and difficulties would be followed by something so...marvelous and wonderful, I would not have believed you," she said. 

Mary had a rare starry-eyed smile curling across her face at this and Nicholas looked knowingly amused.  

"I'da guessed there was somethin' there; the way you insisted on his good side. And it takes something more than even fairness for a master to reconsider and hire a union firebrand.  But it did feel like somethin' holdin' him back, then. I'da told him about your brother that much sooner if I'da known that's what was keepin' him." 

"My brother? Do you mean to say that you told Mr. Thornton about Fred?"

"Begging your pardon miss, I hope you don't mind me doing so. He seemed mighty relieved to find out who that man was, and I can't say it's seem to done much harm." 

"Oh, no!" Impulsively, Margaret reached out to clasp Nicolas's hand. "Thank you!" And then she broke down into tears.  

Mary and Nicholas glanced at each other, not quite sure what to do with this turn of events. Finally Nicholas awkwardly patted Margaret on the back and said, "There there, I'm sure it's ended all right, Miss." 

Margaret sniffed and managed to control herself. "Of course it has. I am so grateful, Nicholas, and Mary, for all you have done for me and my family." 

Nicholas shrugged. "It's a small thing next to what you did for my Bess, and Boucher, little though he deserved it. And don't forget, it's because of you Thornton even hired me back on." 

Margaret shook herself, as if coming awake from a dream.  "Ah, that brings me to why I came.  First, I have an invitation to the wedding. But we also want Nicholas back at the mill, if you'll come." 

Mary seized the offered invitation and read it over hungrily. "It really is this weekend! We shall go, Father, sha'n't we?" 

"As long as we're not already hard at work then," Nicholas said with a smile. "Of course we'll go, and you mayn't want the whole street to come, but know that you can't stop those of them who've gotten from you, from giving you gifts in return."

"They don't have to!"

"Ah, but they'll want to, lass, and will be a kindness from you not to stop them." 

 

**_Tuesday - Cousins_ **

 

Edith finally had a chance to prove her constancy towards Margaret when the invitation to the wedding was received (posthaste) in Harley Street on an afternoon when Henry was visiting. 

"Mother, we must go." 

"But my dear," Aunt Shaw protested. "So far! To such a husband! And what shall you do with the baby?"

"We hired a nanny for just this case. And it is not so far - we can leave tomorrow night, and will still be up there in plenty of time to make sure she is at least decently set out for the wedding."

"My dear, be reasonable," Captain Lennox broke in. "Four days is longer than you think, and it is no small distance." 

Edith was frequently overruled by both of these parties in her life, but this proved to be the rare exception where she put her foot down and was the immovable object. 

"We are her only family who can come. Think of her, all alone at her wedding with a church full of horrid manufacturers in their black coats and tall hats." 

"Edith, she is marrying one of those 'horrid manufacturers,'" Henry Lennox observed drily. 

"All the more reason we should go. Mother, Captain, don't you remember what a help Margaret was at my wedding?  She was so faithful, and now she's all alone. We must go help her."  

Aunt Shaw had been half-convinced by the image of Margaret facing down a wall of dour businessmen, and the instinct was confirmed by the guilty knowledge that she had never really thanked Margaret for her help and forbearance during Edith's wedding preparations. 

"I suppose we are her only family, since poor Frederick cannot come.  Captain, surely you can help make arrangements for us." 

Captain Lennox wasn't overly pleased with this outcome, but nodded. 

Having secured her husband and mother, Edith set her sights on her brother-in-law.  

"Henry, you must come with us also." 

Henry Lennox turned, and, very decidedly, said, "No, I think not. I shall stay in London." 

His tone was sufficiently final that Edith protested with just a few half-hearted remonstrances before launching into detailed preparations for herself and her mother.  

 

**_Wednesday - Brother and Sister (II)_ **

 

Dear Frederick, 

I should have written to you sooner, but I've been so busy that I haven't had time to stop and think, much less write. As you may see from the return address, I am back in Milton, but I shall come to that presently. 

I do not know if my letter about Mr. Bell has yet arrived.  He has passed, and left what he had to me. I did not know that it was so much! I was quite oppressed by the sum. 

A few days ago, it came to my attention that Mr. Thornton had been forced to give up Marlborough Mill.  You remember Mr. Thornton, one of Father’s favorite pupils here in Milton? He sent us fruit very often when Mother was ill.  I knew it was through no mismanagement or fault of his own that he was forced to sell up, and it seemed a shame to me that such a worthy man should have to give up his position. 

You see, Frederick, I felt I had come to know Mr. Thornton better while I was away from him.  London was such a contrast. None of the men I met there were his equal in character and determination. 

So I visited Milton to form a business proposition, wherein if he took a loan of my money, he would pay me a higher interest rate than I am currently getting at the bank. I know it may come as a shock to hear your sister talking such of money and business, but believe me Fred, it has been such a welcome activity - to think how I can do good and benefit myself and others through my money.  

Mr. Thornton was not in Milton when I first went, but I encountered him by chance on the way back to London.  And now, you must be very understanding Fred, we did talk of business, but it also became clear to both of us that even before business, we must talk of love. 

I love him, so much more than ever I thought I could. And it is such a wonder to me that he still loves me, after all the harsh words and unkindness I have heaped upon him. We love each other Fred, and we are to be married this coming Saturday.  I cannot wish you here, because of the danger to your life, but this letter will surely not reach you soon enough, even if I wished it. 

I pray that you will forgive me if I seem to have done wrong, and instead try to think well of both of us.  We aren't planning to leave Milton until the mill is re-established, but if trade is good and workers are content, God willing we will someday be able to visit you in Cadiz.  

With much love,

Your sister,

Margaret

 

**_Thursday - Aunt and Niece_ **

 

Now in Milton, Mrs. Shaw was exceedingly glad that Edith had insisted they come. Margaret seemed much more interested in visiting her fiancée's office, talking over details of business and trade, than in going shopping for her own wedding trousseau! 

Milton was such a dusty, dismal town, as well! So many poorly dressed people on the streets, and everywhere noise and confusion. And Margaret seemed not to notice it all, or rather, she seemed to accept it and belong there, rather than appear an outsider. 

 

"I am afraid that living in the North has made Margaret a bit forgetful about the requirements of polite society," Mrs. Shaw whispered to Edith at one point, as Margaret refused bolt after bolt of cloth presented by the draper. 

"Mother, surely you see how they care for each other.  Aren't you always saying how good it would have been to be married for love?" 

"I suppose," Mrs. Shaw said, dubiously. 

 

It rather disconcerted her, actually, the way Mr. Thornton and Margaret looked at each other.  When they had met last night, Mr. Thornton had been all pleasant civility, and Mrs. Shaw had been reassured that at least her niece was marrying a tall, moderately handsome man who knew how to dress properly.  He was no London society man, to be sure, but that was hardly to be expected in a place like this and Margaret always had been a little odd when it came to her preferences for gentlemen. 

 That would have been her final impression, except for a moment after dinner, when they were paying their farewells to Mrs. Thornton. Mrs. Shaw had turned around in a hurry, suddenly remembering the gloves she'd left in the entry, when her eye was caught by two figures in the dining room. It was Mr. Thornton, and Margaret, sitting at attention next to the table. As she watched, Margaret reached out for Mr. Thornton's hand and simply held it in her own. The look on Mr. Thornton's face as she did was nothing like what Mrs. Shaw had ever seen before. Certainly no proper gentleman would let himself express such strong feelings on his face. But it wasn't even that his expression was so animated, rather that it was perfectly still, so intently focused on Margaret. And the way Margaret looked back!

It sent shivers up her spine, even now, just thinking about it.  Certainly, Mrs. Shaw had wondered how Margaret _could_ ever be happy - getting married in such a rush, to a tradesman, and settling down in this rusticated North.  What could there be for her here, in him?  But thinking of the intensity of that gaze, Mrs. Shaw knew that she was dabbling in a realm she didn’t understand. She must trust that somehow Margaret would be happy, even if Mrs. Shaw didn't understand how.  

 

**_Friday – Parents and Child_ **

 

Margaret captured one hour to herself on Friday afternoon and walked to the cemetery. Her father had been buried near Oxford, so her mother’s grave would have to stand in for both parents.

“Father, Mother,” she said, willing herself not to break down in tears. “I am marrying Mr. Thornton tomorrow."

"Father, I know you would be pleased, you enjoyed your conversations with him so. How you would have loved teaching our children!”

“And Mother, I know Milton was a place of hardship and trial to you, but it was Mr. Thornton who made your life easier there. Remember the fruit he brought you, the beautiful grapes?”

“I wish I knew that you were proud of me, and proud of John. I hope that is the case. But more than anything, I want you to know that I am happy, more than I could imagine or deserve, and that you don’t need to worry about me.”

 

**_Saturday - Husband and Wife_ **

 

The house was clear by 3:00, the last welcome-wearing guest removed, and Margaret's farewells said to her family who were taking the afternoon train back to London. 

A blessed silence fell over the room as John and Margaret just looked at each other and took a deep breath.  John held out his arms, and Margaret walked into them, and they stood in silence for a moment, each holding the other close. 

John wondered, for the first time, how his mother had felt at the death of his father. He remembered no strong emotion on her part, except the normal grief of a death. Perhaps things had already soured between his parents, for to imagine leaving Margaret now, in such a way, or of her leaving him, was almost an unbearable thought. To break apart two people so joined was no trifling matter. 

"What are you thinking?" Margaret asked, perhaps feeling the tension in his body. 

"Of my parents," he replied honestly. "And their separation."

"Let us think of happier things. There is still some sunshine left in the day - shall we go for a walk before supper?" 

 

They walked towards Margaret's favorite park.  At first the discussion centered on practical things: how to train the new foremen, which houses to seek for orders first, how to best furnish their lives during this in-between time before the mill was profitable again.  But eventually, their conversation drifted to more personal topics. 

 

Margaret was astonished at how pleasant it was to recall previous painful memories from the security of their present position.  Her sorrow at her mother’s and father's deaths, his quiet despair as the mill failed even as his rapport with his workers grew, every previous contentious disagreement between them...all were transmuted into something akin to glowing embers: memories to be stirred up to provide shared warmth and comfort.  

 

"When did your feelings change?" John asked. 

"I don't know," Margaret said honestly. "After Fred's visit, I was very troubled, thinking that you disapproved of me.  At the time, I thought it was only because I had lost your good opinion. It took time for me to realize that I was afraid that I'd lost more than just your good opinion.  But it was hard for me to know I loved you, because I hardly dared hope that you should care for me, after all that had happened." 

"I know now why you lied about being at the station.  But why not tell me eventually?" 

Margaret shook her head. "I was too afraid. Now I see, that I would rather have had you angry at, then to know for certain that you did not care for me any more." 

John had no reply to that, but to press her arm even closer to his side, and to squeeze her hand.  

"I never stopped loving you Margaret. God knows I tried, courting Miss Latimer, focusing on my business." He laughed. "I told my mother never to speak of you." 

"I'm sure that suited her." 

"Aye, she was angry at you.  I was hurt too, but not angry.  I wasn't surprised, you see.  I knew I was not worthy of you, even as she insisted you were not worthy of me." He paused, then continued in a low voice, "I am still so unworthy of you." 

Margaret shook her head. "Don't say such things. If anything, it is you who are too good for me. When I think of how I first judged and treated you..."

"You were in a new and unfamiliar place. Of course your perceptions would be altered." 

"Be that as it may..."

"I will hear no more." But this was said not forcefully, but gently, laughing. 

What a marvel, Margaret thought. To see the lightness on her husband's face, and the joy in her own heart, and their mirrored feelings of undeserved attachment. 

"I suppose it is not a competition," she murmured, lifting the hand on which her own rested, and kissing it. 

"If there is a competition, then I think we both have won," John said. 

Margaret squeezed his hand in agreement, then asked, "When did you first realize that you loved me?" 

"The first time I had tea with your father, and you were there. I had never seen anyone like you.  At first I was so often annoyed by you, and then of course I was angry, but deep down I always knew it was because I cared for you.  I think Mother and Fanny always suspected it, even as I denied it." 

Margaret blushed, thinking of all her interactions with John's family, and how apparent it must have been to them, what she and John felt for each other. 

 

It was strange, Margaret thought, as they climbed to the summit of the park, how she wanted time to both stay and pass this week.  Each moment seemed too precious to let it go -- and yet there had always been another, yet more wonderful moment waiting around the corner.  Just today, there was first the wedding ceremony, now this chance to talk deeply with her new husband, and tonight, their wedding night, whatever that would bring. And she was sure that once that moment was over, there would be so many more the next day, and the next day to look forward to. 

 

How much had happened in a week, since John had first asked her to come home.  But she had been home since the moment their eyes met on the platform, when she knew that wherever she went, he would find her.  

John seemed to have guessed her thoughts, because he drew her even closer and asked, "Are you finally coming home with me?" 

Heart too full to speak, Margaret simply nodded and they began walking again, together back toward Milton, Marlborough Mill, and the beckoning future. 

**Author's Note:**

> Other people have written about the wedding night, so you can go read their fics instead. ;) 
> 
> This fic is based on the BBC adaptation of North and South, but I borrowed a few ideas/characterizations from the original novel. I also wrote this fic after reading a fair number of N&S stories, so ideas from those may have sneaked into this one as well, without me realizing. 
> 
> I wrote a couple of little John/Margaret bits that I deleted in favor of the overall "talking to the family" theme, so those may appear at some point as a side story.


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